


to become perseus

by saucefx



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Canonical Child Abuse, Coming of Age, Multi, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, carlos joins the sea three
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24814132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucefx/pseuds/saucefx
Summary: Staring up at the smog-stained sky, Carlos de Vil couldn’t help but wonder if the kids in Auradon had to steal food.They must not, since the barge is full of scraps, which means that there has to be more, better food out there.-Carlos discovers his place on the Isle, only it isn't the one that he expected. Uma catches her flies with honey, after all.
Relationships: Gil & Harry Hook & Uma, Harry Hook/Carlos de Vil, Jay/Carlos de Vil, we'll see about the others... ;)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 197





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He challenged Perseus to dare a difficult task, to kill the fearsome Gorgon Medusa and bring back her head.

Staring up at the smog-stained sky, Carlos de Vil couldn’t help but wonder if the kids in Auradon had to steal food.

They must not, since the barge is full of scraps, which means that there has to be more, better food out there.

Ever since he could remember, his life had consisted of snatching morsels when he could get his hands on them, or begging from his mom. If Mother was in a good mood, she was fond of babying him and then bragging about it. Most of the time, though, she forgot to stock food at all.

Empty cabinets, a stuffy closet with a pile of rough furs and bear traps placed around the edges. The older he got, the more Carlos had to curl into himself to keep his ankles from getting caught in any of their metal teeth. 

Sleeping in a ball like a dog out of habit has made Cruella even more, well, cruel. The other week, she added ‘grooming’ at Curl up and Dye to his chore list, in order to make sure that his hair always looked nice.

For a moment, when she handed him one of her silver rings, Carlos calculated how much food he could stock up on.

She told him if he used it for anything else that she’d loan him to Maleficent for a week. 

In Hell Hall, the thick smell of the oils combed onto the furs never seemed to leave Carlos’s skin, having long soaked through the leather of his day-to-day clothes. Sleeping on them every night made it worse, and he was resigned to ignoring his classmates pinching their noses in his direction. Better a bad reputation than to freeze at night. 

Or worse, to face Cruella’s wrath. 

Under the barrier, everything was cast in a faint shadow, and Carlos often gave longing glances at the outline of the sun. His books described the sun as being warm, and despite his many freckles, his complexion was sickly and poor. 

As tempting as it was to hole himself up inside, Carlos didn’t like the look that came upon Cruella’s face when his face got pale, and his freckles began showing more than usual. Her hand lingered in his hair, during those times, stroking over it like she did the stuffed mutt on her shoulder.

Carlos was everything that a ferocious dog wasn’t. He was obedient, polite, and never made too much noise. He was nothing like those awful beasts in Mother’s stories. 

But it didn’t stop her from running her fingers over his spotted cheeks like she could peel them off and make leather gloves.

“Devil kid!” Called a voice, and Carlos lifted his head from where it was buried in a book. 

Today, school was blessedly empty, aside from him and a few other troublemakers. It was a bit of a surprise to see Jay, son of Jafar, hanging around, since Carlos had only seen him show up to push other kids around. 

He reclined in his seat and kept a tight grip on his book, kicking his feet up onto the desk. 

“What do you want, Jafar?” He drawled, relishing in the way Jay’s eyes darkened for a moment. 

“Hey, that’s pretty funny.” He said in a low voice, one that did not sound amused in the slightest. With a single hand, Jay snatched Carlos’ book and dangled it above his head. 

Carlos resisted the urge to try and grab it back by forcing himself to cross his arms. 

“Fine. Jay, what do you want?” 

Instead of responding, Jay took the time to thumb through the pages of his book. Carlos found his lips curling back in a sneer. It was doubtful Jafar even took the time to teach him his letters. Not that Cruella taught Carlos, of course, but at least he had the sense to teach himself.

He bared his teeth when Jay tore a random page out of his book before tossing it back in his lap.

“I’d take it for the shop, but nobody would buy a book that smells like mutt.” Crumpling the page in his hands, Jay tosses it at the back of Evie’s head. 

Evie is one of the few people Carlos has no issues with, and he finds his arms tense when she turns around with an annoyed expression on her face. Luckily for him, her eyes are instead narrowed at Jay. 

“You’re gonna run an errand for me.” Jay states, with that cocky smirk still on his face. 

A shudder runs down Carlos’ spine, and he turns his head towards the window.

“Like Hell,” He mutters, clenching his fist. “Don’t you and Mal have lackeys for that?”

“Sure we do,” Jay agrees, which is the first clue that something is wrong. “But Mal wanted you in particular. Seems like somebody has a reputation for building things along the south Isle.”

Oh no. Carlos knows what’s happening, only because he’s spent the last three years trying not to get involved with it. 

Mal and Uma’s rivalry started out as a spat between comrades, but Carlos was one of the first ones to clear the fuck out of the way. The older the two girls became, the more serious the turf wars, and Carlos had done well-enough for himself by acting as a sort of weak neutral-party. 

As long as neither Mal nor Uma noticed how he was profiting off of their dumb fights, Carlos had no obligation to declare a side. But Mal asking him to ‘run an errand’ is as good as branding him.

Mal may have let him roam free for a while, but now she’s forcing that he’ll have to rely on her for protection from Uma.

Of course, Carlos could go into hiding for a while and avoid torment from Jay, but eventually he would have to ask Uma for help, which would be a death sentence in itself.

“What do you need.” He asks flatly. 

Two weeks later, Carlos is waiting for the supply barge like any other street rat on the island, although this time there’s higher stakes than usual. 

Uma has been patching together her pirate ship with the best supplies for months, and Mal has gotten fed up with it at last. 

After their uncomfortable public conversation, Jay had yanked Carlos up by the collar of his shirt, and dragged him into the alley behind the school. 

“We want you to burn the ship.” Jay told him as he released his grip, and Carlos choked on his own spit. 

At first, he thought that Jay was joking. But as the conversation went on longer, he realized that this was no laughing matter.

For starters, too many things could go wrong. 

Most of the fires Carlos started were by accident. To set a controlled flame without getting caught, one big enough to roast the belly of a large ship while floating on a body of water, that was no easy task.

Not to mention, he didn’t want to see Uma’s crew burned alive. Sure, a few of them had been jerks in the past, and they would be all for his blood after this, but he still didn’t want to kill anybody. 

The thought made his stomach twist. Killing people felt too permanent, even on the Isle.

However, burning Uma’s ship? He couldn’t say that the thought of the mechanics didn’t make him a little excited. 

Gunpowder was impossible to get on the Isle, but Carlos was able to set up his own mini-distillery using scavenged parts and stolen food from the barges. 

Salt water was off-limits, what with Uma being his intended target, so he made a deal with the evil fairies to set up along one of their streams in exchange for the occasional bottle of his amature moonshine. 

After a couple of weeks, tensions were beginning to run high with Mal and Jay. The two baddies had started shoulder-checking him in the halls, and Carlos had noticed Evie watching him more with what almost looked like concern. 

He could have cried when he finally found a bag of grain amongst the supplies sent over. As it was, Carlos managed to snatch it with only a black eye for his troubles. 

Uma’s crew had been there, but none of them spared him a second glance, as they were too busy digging around for rope and other ship-related materials. He isn’t sure what the point is, what with such little ocean to sail, but maybe they just like keeping up the whole pirate thing. 

Soon, he’s camping next to the distillery every day in order to guard it. The grain has been combined with the yeast he stole from the baker’s, and by the time all this is over, Carlos is gonna have a lot more people to worry about than Mal and her scary mom. 

But it’s too late to go back now. 

His camp is a setup of tubes running through the cold water of the stream, then into an empty oil barrel which took hours to mount in place. As for a bed, it’s a tarp with a stolen fur laid out on top of it. Magical beasts stalk him at night, only warded away by the evil fairies.

He won’t deny that some part of him has been having fun though, amongst the fear of it all. He collects the moonshine in jugs, while maintaining a constant fire underneath the mash. It doesn’t come out to be a lot, but if the proof is anything near his calculations, the liquor should light Uma’s ship up like a firework. 

“Will you at least help me?” Carlos hisses at Jay when he runs into him after the baker, disappointed when he gets a head shake in return. 

“You’re on your own, dude.” Jay had said.

And wasn’t that the truth.

It’s the early hours of a Thursday when Carlos creeps over to Uma’s turf, toting a couple gallons of liquor in his hands. He moves as fast as he can, and the lighter in his pocket feels heavy. Thursdays are when the trash barge comes, so most of the crew should be awake and gone by this time in the morning.

Carlos has been scouting this place out for weeks, checking up whenever he needed to steal food from town. At this point, he thought that he knew the pirates’ daily routines better than they themselves did.

He slinks around the edge of the ship, ducking his head out to make sure that the coast is clear. Creeping through the shadows is just his speed, even if it’s his first time committing arson.

Mal had better reward him well for this. Good thing he had plenty of witnesses that had seen him and Jay, in case she tries to pull back the protection.

It was clever of her to corner him before Uma could snag him for herself, not that Carlos considers himself a huge find. He feels some small pride for managing to make the first moonshine on the Isle, and even if this all goes to shit, he’ll make a pretty penny selling off the dregs.

Assuming that he survives, of course.

But in the back of his brain, he respects Mal for setting him up in a clever, albeit straightforward way. You help me, I help you. It was one of the unofficial rules of the Isle, right next to An eye for an eye. 

Quick as a mouse, Carlos darts across the gangplank and presses his back to one of the sails. Jay and Mal could have lit these up no problem, but instead they sent him to see what he could do.

He won’t disappoint. 

Uncapping one of the gallon jugs, Carlos allows himself to fall to one knee. He’ll pour it, light it, and then get the fuck out of dodge. It’s an alright plan, for a one man team. 

In fact, he almost manages to pull it off, until somebody tackles him before he pours the liquor out.

“Hey!” Carlos shouts, as the jugs are yanked out of his hands. 

Before he can even sputter, a thick arm is pressing his neck up against the wooden mast. His eyes go wide, and his hand fumbles for the knife in his pocket as Carlos stares into the black-smeared eyes that are watching him with immense curiosity.

“Well aren’t you a wee morsel?” Sings Harry Hook, before his free hand slams Carlos’ wrist against the wood.

A groan slips out of his mouth, and he kicks his legs until the grip on his wrist becomes too painful. With a huffed gasp, Carlos allows his body to go limp. One broken wrist wouldn’t be the worst injury to suffer, but he’ll be lucky enough to get out of this one with all of his limbs intact.

“Lemme go, Hook!” He snarls, desperate to keep his voice from trembling. 

“Hmm. I think not.”

Harry cranes his head back to look over the jugs, and then back at Carlos. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. “Bringing us a gift, were ye lad?”

Carlos remains silent. It’s obvious that Hook just wants him to incriminate himself, which is one thing he refuses to do. With another tug, his arms are being pulled behind him, and Harry is tying his arms together with a length of coarse rope.

Once Carlos is tied, Harry frisks him, taking both the box of matches and his knife. 

“Don’t got much, do you now?” He teases, comparing the small knife to his hook for show. 

If his legs weren’t starting to shake, Carlos thinks that he would spit in Harry’s face.

“It’s more than this hunk of junk is worth.”

Harry’s eyes narrow, and his hook drags up the underside of Carlos’ jaw. Carlos tilts his head upwards, but he’s unable to stop the throbbing scratch it leaves on his skin. 

“Surely you can’t be talking about Uma’s ship, pup. And here I was manning the crows nest when a cute little stray decided to sneak on in.”

Carlos parts his lips to retort again, but flinches back when Harry barks and snaps his teeth just in front of his nose. 

“Aww, now there’s a good pup.”

Maybe I should drown myself, Carlos contemplates, eyeing the edge of the ship. With his luck, Harry would fish him right back out and make it last. His knees are shaking now, and Hook presses against them with a taunting smirk. 

“Scared?” He coos, and then a hand is sliding over his shoulder and yanking him back from Carlos.

If Carlos was scared before, now he’s bloody terrified, because standing with her shoulders pinched back and her chin held high is Uma herself.

“Harry,” She starts, ignoring the way he turns into mush as his eyes lock on her. “What is de Vil doing on my ship?”

“Don’t know, Captain.” Harry chimes back, leaning into her grip. Uma yanks her hand away, and Carlos could have sworn that her lips twitch upwards when Harry pouts.

Uma prowls around the mast like a predator on the hunt, and Carlos squirms and averts his eyes. Fooling Harry, crazy Harry Hook himself, might be one thing, but lying to Uma would be impossible. At least she might grant him a swift punishment. 

“You heard my first mate, de Vil. What are you doing standing on my ship? And what is all this?” She comes to a stop to nudge one of the gallon jugs with her toe.

“I’ll never tell.” He mumbles, then cowers when Uma draws her sword and prods the tip into his stomach.

They remain in stalemate for a moment, until Uma raises her eyebrow and presses the sword harder. Carlos yelps, not at all a fan of being gutted.

“Okay- Okay! I’ll tell you.”

Uma stares in exasperation as Carlos struggles to find the right words.

“It was Mal. But I’m not on her side, I swear!”

It’s a good thing he added the last part, because Uma’s sword stops mid-swing. Carlos swallows, and takes note of the sudden look of disgust in both her and Harry’s eyes.

“Should’ve known that bottomfeeder would try something, I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.” Uma huffs and rests a hand on her hip, cocking her head. “So? What’s the daughter of Maleficent have on you, and what was she gonna make you do?”

“W-Well she doesn’t have anything on me, per say…” Carlos starts, and shrinks when Uma’s mouth contorts into a firm scowl. “But Jay kept following me around, and I knew that he’d make my life hell if I refused.”

Uma taps a finger against her chin, and in the background, Carlos can see Harry’s hands twitching. It must be killing him to not be eviscerating Carlos with his hook right now, such as he likely planned before his captain got involved. 

“Alright, I’ll believe it. Loner on the Isle, you don’t wanna get shunned, so you took a piss-poor deal. You still haven’t told me what you were sent here to do, though. Are you here to spy on me?” 

Similar to before, Carlos is tempted to nod, only he knows that Uma is also leading him into a trap. If he lies and says yes, then what will he say about the jugs? Better to tell the truth and plead for forgiveness. Maybe he can hold up in the treehouse for a few days.

With all the courage that remains in his tiny body, Carlos shakes his head and launches into a rambling explanation of his extensive plan. Both Uma and Harry’s eyes widen, and Harry picks up the open jug to take a whiff of it. 

By the way he coughs and then nods at Uma, it seems as though they believe Carlos for now.

“Kid. You’re fucking crazy.” Uma tells him, with a blank look. 

“Would that have worked?” Harry demands, and after a few moments of thinking it over, Uma nods. Harry looks ready to tear him to shreds for trying to burn the ship, but Uma stops him with a single hand. 

“You managed to create this all yourself?” She lets out a low whistle. “No wonder Mal wants you on her team so bad. You almost turned headquarters to ash-”

“-Which is why I should hook him.” Harry finishes, looking pleased.

Carlos feels a pit open up in his stomach, but he’s shocked out of his fear by Uma’s next words.

“No. It’s why he should join us instead.”

Both Carlos and Harry gape at her, although Harry is the first to recover.

“Why didn’t you tell me we were adopting strays, Uma? He would have been my very first choice.” 

Carlos bares his teeth at him, which makes Harry grin in return.

“Are you going to run?” Uma asks him, and his gaze snaps back to meet her intelligent eyes. 

“No.” Carlos states, surprising himself with how honest the promise sounds.

With a nod from Uma, Harry steps forwards and begins to untie his arms. A few crewmembers have begun trickling in from their barge run, and Carlos knows that word will have already reached Mal of his failure. 

He rubs his arms after Harry frees them, ignoring the smug look being cast his way.

“Come on.” Commands Uma, but not before she points at Harry.

“You, stay here and guard this. It’s worth a fortune.”

“Aye aye captain…” He mutters, leaning back against the edge of the ship. 

Carlos hurries to follow behind Uma as she leads him below deck. She shows him to a room that’s full of knick knacks, and has a pile of pillows and blankets stacked in one corner. A wooden desk in the center shows that it’s being used as an office of sorts.

“My room.” She announces, even though he didn’t ask for an explanation. 

“It’s uh, cozy.” Carlos comments, when she doesn’t deign to say anything else. Instead, Uma watches him as she straddles the chair behind the desk.

“I want to offer you a deal. Not the stupid, half-assed protection that Mal offered you, I’m talkin’ a real deal. A job, a home, and all your bullies scared away.”

“It sounds too good to be true.” Carlos admits, noting how she looks pleased.

“We protect our own. And if you want, you can live under that protection too. But it means you gotta work for me, as a part of my crew.” His breath catches. “You join us on barge runs, you take shifts at the restaurant, and you build things for us like that fancy liquor mill.”

His leg jiggles in thought, and he twists his fingers together, weighing the pros and the cons.

Pros: Neither Jay nor Mal can hurt him, no living with Cruella, and a guarantee of seafood.

Cons: Crazy Harry, swordfighting?

“Will I have to learn how to use a sword?”

“Yes.” Uma deadpans, reaching over the desk to poke him in the chest. When he startles, the poke turns into a gentle prod. 

“I’ll teach you how to use a sword, or if not me, then one of my men. It’s important that you learn how to defend yourself instead of running like you always do.”

Carlos can feel the tips of his ears burning red. He coughs.

“A place on your ship, you’ll keep people from bothering me- including your own crew, and all i have to do is scavenge, build, and work at your mom’s restaurant?”

Uma makes a so-so gesture.

“I can’t promise the crew won’t mess with you, but they won’t hurt you unless I tell them, at least. Not that you need to worry about that, you couldn’t take our weakest in a fight if you tried.”

His face screws up in indignation, but well. She’s not wrong. 

“Then okay. I’ll join your crew.”

There’s a beat of silence, where Carlos glances around, and starts second-guessing his choice. His decision is solidified when Uma clasps his arm and shoots him a grin so wide it’s blinding.

“Great! Well come along, then. It’s time to introduce ya.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Polydectes had not known was that Perseus was beloved by the gods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the lack of clarification: this fic will be multi-chapter! 
> 
> i have too many thoughts for just one

Snip, snip, snip went Dizzy’s scissors as they ran through his hair. 

Carlos tried to keep his feet still, but it was difficult to concentrate when he could see Gil admiring the splintering shelf full of hair dyes in the corner of the room.

It had only been three days, but Carlos was trying his best to get a read on Uma’s closest men. So far, Gil hasn’t shown him anything but a loose tongue, a friendly demeanor, and an overwhelming sense of loyalty towards his friends (i.e. Harry and Uma).

When he first discovered that Gil was the son of Gaston, Carlos watched him to see if he had inherited the anger issues. So far, his answer was a hard no.

“He’s done!” Dizzy called, gesturing Carlos across the room and towards a clothes rack, as well as a big purple changing screen.

“Uma told me to make you look like a real pirate, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Carlos nodded without thinking as Dizzy shoved clothes into his arms and pointed at the screen. He stumbled behind it, and began stripping down. 

His mind wandered as he eyed the clothes laying out in front of him. Evie must be lonely without his presence at school. When he was sick, she always smiled when he came back the next day. Being castle-schooled for years meant that she was a stranger, and not often messed with.

Uma was smart to keep him out of class for as long as she could. Oh, she knew how much he wanted to go back, but she had ordered him to crew-bound put until he had learned to ‘look, fight, and act like a pirate should.’ 

Right now, Gil was on babysitting duty. So far, he was the best because he chatted up a storm. It was nice not to have to carry on a conversation. Relaxing for him to sit back and listen to someone else talk.

Speaking of Gil, his gasp when he saw Carlos in the new clothes was on par with Dizzy’s excited squeal. 

She had donned him in loose pants, the black fabric baggy around the thighs but tight around his calves. His shirt was now little more than a crop top, and he tugged it down to try and cover his stomach. The scrap of a white shirt was made up by the thick jacket lined with a fluffy collar, which rested just above his hips.

“You look awesome.” Stated Gil.

Carlos gave him a hesitant thumbs up, which he returned in an instant. Meanwhile, Dizzy was beside herself going through a chest of scarves.

“Almost… Almost… There! This will make you look the part.”

She bounded over to Carlos and reached up, tying a long strip of red fabric just below his hairline. 

“I thought you would still want the same colors as before, even if you’re no longer living with Cruella. Is that okay?”

He wasn’t sure how it made him feel, to be honest. The thought of Cruella made his head hurt, so Carlos shrugged to get it over with, and Dizzy embraced him with dazzling glee. 

He tried to offer something, but Gil waved it off, saying that Uma had it covered. Part of it made Carlos feel uncomfortable. How much was she expecting from him, if she was already getting him a haircut and these nice clothes?

The bell above the door made a horrific sound as they exited, but it didn’t stop Dizzy from shouting her cheerful goodbyes. Right now the streets were empty, since it was the early afternoon of the day. Kids were in school, their lousy parents were sleeping in.

“Hey,” Said Gil, startling him out of his thoughts. “I know you’re new to the crew, but I think you’re going to like it here. You’re smart, just like Uma, but a boy, just like me and Harry.”

Carlos nodded, as if he had just been imparted with sage wisdom as they made their way back to the ship.

It was nice of Gil to go out of his way to reassure him, and that was what got under Carlos’ skin. Why was Uma’s left hand man so… So nice?! It didn’t make any sense at all.

Sure Gil had brute strength, anyone could tell by looking at the swell of his muscles, but what was going on in that head of his? Carlos hadn’t given him one reason to roll out the welcome wagon, but here he was, trying to make connections.

He allowed his shoulder to bump against Gil’s as they walked, and shot him a quick glance. Gil just smiled back and gave a gentle bump in return.

When they got to the restaurant, Uma was shouting at some of their regular customers, and Harry was lying sprawled out on the bar. 

“-don’t think I don’t know why you come here every week! Yeah, cause the smell of fish is even stronger than the musk of that evil bear you’re always hanging around. Hey Gil. Hey Carlos.”

Uma paused and did a double take.

“Gil! Car-los!” The way she drags out his name makes him flush to the roots of his hair. Having this much attention at once was pretty intimidating. “Well now. Don’t you look the part of a handsome buccaneer?” 

Harry turns his head their way, but his eyes widen when he catches a glimpse of the outfit, and he knocks over a customer’s glass in the process of sitting up. 

“Well I’ll be.” He murmured, eyes roaming Carlos as he scowled back in disbelief. He huffed, crossing his arms when Harry’s gaze lingered a bit too long on his bare (albeit freckled) stomach.

“Do I pass your expression, Captain Uma?” Carlos drones.

Uma smirks, and Gil perks up as she set down two full plates.

“With flying colors, de Vil. Now why don’t you two come get your reward before you starve.”

The sight of fresh food was enough to make him rush to sit, although he made sure to choose the stool furthest from Harry. Gil plopped down in the seat right next to him and didn’t hesitate to dig into his meal.

Carlos poked at the white chunks in front of him. When Uma’s fond look twisted into a glare, he hunched his shoulders in.

“Ah-! I mean, I’ve just never had fish before.”

“Well then try it.” She demanded, and pulled the plate closer to his chest. 

He picked apart the meat with great care, taking note of the spine, before pushing a piece into his mouth. It was weird. Strong, salty, and chewy in flavor. But he felt like he could get used to it. 

“It’s good.” Carlos said, his voice muffled as he began scarfing it down. Uma rolled her eyes, but patted her hand on his shoulder.

For a moment, just a moment, he went tense. Conversations around the restaurant petered off into an awkward silence. From the corner of his eye, Carlos could tell that Gil and Harry had also stopped eating to watch and see what he would do. 

“Thanks, Captain.” He said, because Uma was feeding him unlike Cruella and if anyone had earned the right to stupid Auradon words from his lips, it was her.

Everyone in the restaurant gave a collective sigh of relief. Carlos forced his shoulders to relax. She moves her hand up to ruffle his hair, and Gil laughs when he makes a sound of indignation.

Harry has his brows furrowed towards the counter, which makes Carlos a bit wary, but he’s distracted by the feeling of Gil running a hesitant hand through his curls. 

“I’m not a dog.” He snaps, but then Gil looks crushed, so he sighs and leans into it. It feels kind of nice, actually, if he ignores the embarrassment. 

Uma is snickering, but it doesn’t feel like how it did whenever classmates laughed at him. As much as Carlos wants to be wary, as much as his body screams for him to run, his head has taken a liking to the crew. Uma is smart, smarter than Mal, and with Carlos’s inventions, he’s starting to believe they have a chance at taking the dragon down. 

Maleficent is another story, but it’s no secret that most villain parents only like what their kids can do for them. Cruella loved the careful grooming Carlos lavished on her furs, but it didn’t stop her from digging her fingernails into his arms whenever he fucked up.

He licks the plate clean once the fish is finished, because unlike the stupid Auradon kids, he knows better than to let good food go to waste. His stomach feels like it’s fit to burst, with how much Uma has been giving him. 

Even Ursula gave him a clam when he offered to help her fish.

“Well aren’t you cute? I don’t need any silly inventions, kid, but I like em loyal. Take this and run along now, you’re looking scrawny.” She tossed him the clam, and Carlos scrambled off as fast as his feet could carry him.

He thought that she was just another member of the crew! Not one of the big bads.

Carlos had read the stories of the villains, and he had learned about their wicked ways in school, but it’s not like his books had any pictures. People in Auradon never threw out the good books, and if they did, the likes of him certainly didn’t get them.

He leaves the plate on the table to annoy Uma as he steps away. He’s been on shift about once a day washing dishes, and he already served his time earlier. 

With so many crew members, most of them only had to work about an hour. It was unlike the days he spent pinching himself awake to finish his chores before Cruella got home. Once again, Carlos felt a bolt of relief shoot through his spine at the thought.

No more chores. No more Cruella.

Not that it was all sunshine and roses being a member of the crew. Harry was keeping a close eye on him, as if he were about to bolt. It was even more unnerving than usual, since Carlos had avoided him in particular throughout his street rat career.

Hook was a pro at, well, playing hooky. He never showed up for class, and he had lured both girls and boys away from the grounds of the school. 

Watching from the shadows, Carlos knew better than to take his hand. He stayed on the far side of the yard as the other kids wrestled, with his back pressed to the wall and his legs sticking out straight. 

If it was up to him, they would have been curled up against his chest, but Cruella had scolded him many a time for showing weakness. 

Across the yard, full of dead grass and dirt, the young Hook lingered outside a gap in the fence. Day in and day out he convinced students to slip through, only for them to return far later with swollen lips. 

Harry was the one who discovered that Carlos was afraid of dogs, and the main proprietor of abusing said knowledge. Small yips turned into teasing barks, sharp and unexpected from the cover of long alleys. 

A couple of days after Carlos joined the crew, a few other members also started giving ‘woof’s when he walked by. Carlos had snapped his head towards Harry, but Harry looked just as confused as he did.

“Hook.” He had growled, and Harry, noting his rage, made a quick escape.

And it was the same Harry who had a disturbing expression on his face right now. It almost looked as though he was contemplating something, which was kinda scary, in Carlos’s opinion. 

Harry was formidable enough as a crazy pirate. With a working brain, who knows what he could do.

“I’m going for a nap!” Carlos calls, and Uma waves her hand. 

If he had wanted to leave, he would have done it already, and they both knew he would be punished for wandering anyways. 

He slips out the doors just as a surge of new customers make their way in, and meanders over to the gangplank. The ship was once a sign of fear, but now that Carlos has been inside, it seems a lot less scary.

In fact, the construction is pretty cool, despite the patched up parts, and if Carlos wasn’t evil, he’d feel a little guilty for trying to burn it down.

Across is a hatch, which opens into the lower decks. It isn’t the biggest space in the world, but he has a space that he’s sharing with a few younger kids, and they haven’t done anything terrible to him yet. 

Before he can step towards his space, a hand is yanking him back, and forcing a yelp. Carlos slaps the hand away, and speak of the devil, there Hook is, standing tall in all of his annoying glory. 

He crosses his arms, waiting for a stream of bullshit, and Hook does not disappoint. 

“Ain’t it a bit small in here?” He asks, like Carlos hasn’t been sleeping in Cruella’s closet his entire life.

“What’s it to you.” Carlos spits back. 

Harry looks taken aback, as if Carlos was supposed to agree with him instead of harboring annoyance over the stalking. 

“Well, Gil and I got an empty mat in ours.”

He blanches, squints at Harry’s face, then steps away.

“No way. I don’t want whatever part of you that’s contagious.” 

Just like that, whatever light that was in Hook’s eyes stutters away. He gives Carlos a sudden sneer, using the curve of his hook to push him even further back.

The metal burns cold against his bare stomach.

“You really think we’d want a dirty stray stinking up our side of the ship?” Harry crones. “Gil’s a softie, he wanted me to play nice is all.” 

Carlos swallows hard. 

“If you wanna keep all those pretty little limbs of yours, I suggest you never step one foot inside my room.” 

And then the metal is gone, and he’s staring at Harry’s retreating back with his hands trembling against his new pants. He waits for a minute. Then two. And when nobody comes down to take revenge, Carlos leaps into the cold room, the cold bed.

Outside, he can hear the water sloshing against the sides of the ship, so he tugs his jacket up to cover his ears. In that position he tries to sleep, back pressed up against the wood, mind spinning. 

Is Hook still on the ship? Is Hook the same as Harry? Harry is flirtatious, loud, but he only threatens Carlos in jest. When Harry is Hook, Carlos isn’t so sure about his motives. 

Everybody on the Isle is faking it, apart from the adults. That’s something Carlos has observed in the depths of their eyes. But if anyone stops faking they’ll die, so there’s usually no reason to worry. Most of the villain kids will never reveal their true faces.

He stays awake until he can hear C.J. and his other roommate walk in, speaking in low whispers. 

For a moment, just a moment, he considers asking C.J. about Harry. But the moment passes, the two kids go quiet, and the three of them settle down.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In their confrontation, Perseus used Medousa's head to turn the Titan into stone.

Jay is not pleased when he returns to school.

Of course, everybody who was anybody was expecting this, including of course, Uma. That’s why when Carlos returned to class (“Gotta learn science somehow- you said the restaurant was too distracting to read in.”) Uma sent a bodyguard with him.

Considering his terrible luck, of course that bodyguard happened to be Hook.

Ever since that night on the ship, Harry hadn’t spoken to Carlos face-to-face. By the time he showed up for work or meals, Hook had already ran away to cause mischief on the Isle. 

“He’s doing things for Uma, of course.” Gil answered when he asked, and although Gil didn’t know the details, he was happy enough to keep Carlos company until the day he returned to class.

Apparently Harry pitched a fit on deck when he heard about his new assignment, one that was loud enough for Carlos to hear through the floorboards. C.J. stared him down the entire time, as if Harry’s madness was somehow his fault. Carlos scowled back.

Either way, he was unsurprised when Harry showed up the next morning when he was waiting on deck.

“I need to get some stuff from my hideout.” He muttered, after Harry had scared him by barking from behind.

Harry rolled his eyes and gave a loud groan. 

“Come on pup, you’re really gonna make me go to school? Not once have I ever had to enter that wretched place. Unless you count-”

“No. Whatever you were going to say? Just no.” 

Carlos could feel Harry’s glare weighing on his back, but for once he was too tired to feel scared. A little worried, maybe, but not as much as he was worried about Jay and Mal bringing a can of whoopass down on his head.

They wandered through the streets, Carlos keeping his shoulders back, unlike his usual slinking. It felt good to wear Dizzy’s new clothes. Combined with the extra protection (even if it was Hook) it felt almost like armor. 

He led Harry to the treehouse without bothering to throw him off, since it wouldn’t remain much of a secret hideaway for long. 

When they crept into the yard, Carlos put a finger to his lips. Harry raised an eyebrow, but to his credit, he did comply. The two of them scampered up the ladder and Carlos let out a breath of relief to see all of his books still there. 

“Son of a Pan…” Harry said, letting out a low whistle as he inspected the joint. His eyes were fixed on Carlos’s inventions scattered all over the floor. “Is it true then, pup?”

Carlos swiveled his head to eye Harry as he placed each book in his bag.

“Is what true?”

“That you’re trying to break the barrier.” 

If the bag wasn’t already slung over his shoulder, Carlos would have fumbled it for sure. How did he know that? Nobody was supposed to know that? It didn’t make any-

Hold on. 

Carlos looked closer at where Harry was standing, hovering over his work bench with a mischievous look on his face. 

“Ha ha.” Carlos deadpanned, walking over to snatch the blueprint away. This also went into his bag, along with any papers he deemed important. “I guess I should’ve called it something less obvious.”

With the papers folded and rolled neatly inside of his bag, he braced himself for an incoming slew of questions. To his surprise, Harry’s mouth remained shut. They stood there in silence for a moment, before Harry jerked his head.

“Are we goin’ or are you too scared?”

“Scared that you actually know how to read, maybe.” Carlos shot back, and the curve of Hook’s mouth twitched. 

Merchants and street rats all whispered as they saw him go by. Yes, they had heard that the de Vil child was a pirate now, but it was different to see him strutting around in person- and with Harry Hook no less!

Cruella probably doesn’t even realize I’m gone, Carlos thought to himself darkly. 

Today of all days, Maleficent’s dragon statue appeared to loom in front of the entrance to the school, her wide jaw sporting rows of jagged teeth and fangs.

And underneath said statue, summoned by the gossip alone, stood Mal and Jay.

Mal’s glare made Carlos freeze in his tracks, but his heart sped right back up when Harry’s hand clamped down on his shoulder.

He looked up at Harry, but his eyes were neutral, though his mouth was bared in that crazy grin. 

“Mal. Jay.” He purred both of their names, which was unsettling to all parties involved.

“This doesn’t concern you Hook.” Mal inspected her nails, asserting the appearance that she had many better things to do.

Maybe she did. Carlos didn’t think that he alone was worth this much of their time, considering that Mal and Jay were two of the baddest VKs on the Isle. Jay was eyeing Harry, although he looked more confused about the fact that he was now leaning on Carlos.

“Oh, but I think it does. The pup’s ours now, and we’re not gonna let you have him without a fight.”

Harry rested his chin on top of Carlos’s head, and Carlos resisted the overwhelming urge to shove him off. What happened to the Hook from this morning? Jay and Mal looked even more tense, even angry in Jay’s case. 

“You may have dressed him up like a pirate, but that still doesn’t mean he’s one of you!” Jay called, and Carlos scoffed out loud. 

For the first time since their approach, every eye shifted to look at him. His face paled at the sudden attention.

“I mean- Listen, you two wouldn’t have forgiven me for messing up if I’d come back empty handed.”

Jay opens his mouth to protest, but Mal raises a hand to silence him. 

“He’s right.” She says, her words slow, but cold. “I wouldn’t have forgiven him. But de Vil, a weakling is one thing- a traitor is unacceptable. You better watch your plaything, Hook. I’d be careful to let him wander off leash.”

Carlos doesn’t even know how to respond. He’s right here, and she’s still talking about him like a mutt! There’s a pit in the center of his chest that feels like it’s burning with anger.

As she skulks away, Jay gives them another look before heading into the building. There’s no chance he isn’t trying to spy on Carlos.

“That went well.” Hook says once they’re alone, and Carlos elbows him in the ribs. 

Harry shoots him a pout, but Carlos, remembering how Uma controls Harry, simply elects to ignore it. 

“At least they won’t fuck me up with you hanging around.” He pulls away and strolls towards the dilapidated building, confident that Hook is on his heels.

Students stare even more than usual, and a few whistle in appreciation at the sight of Carlos in his new outfit. He rolls his eyes and heads for the classroom, only to stop when somebody steps in his way. 

“Carlos,” Evie demands. “What happened?”

Aware of the prying ears, as well as Harry standing behind him, Carlos replies with a shrug. Evie is intimidating, but she’s never once hurt him. They could almost be considered unofficial allies. 

It’s clear though that whatever silent bond they shared is strained now, due to his allegiance towards Uma. Evie’s lips are pressed together in their usual stubborn red, but her eyes speak to something softer. 

“Haven’t you heard?” Harry drawls, commanding the attention of all around him. Carlos turns to share a look with Evie out of habit, but her focus is no longer on him. “Pup here’s the newest member of Uma’s crew.”

“That’s a laugh!” Calls out one of Yzma’s sons. 

Carlos doesn’t expect anything to happen, other than brushing off Evie to enter the classroom. This means that he’s totally unprepared when Harry lunges through the crowd and grabs the kid by the arm.

“Woah, woah, hey-” Yzma’s son calls, and then lets out a piercing scream as Harry gives a vicious twist to his arm.

A crack echos through the hallway, cutting through all the voices save for Evie and Harry’s.

“Dear Mirror…” Evie whispers, and Harry shoves the sobbing teen on the floor.

“There we are! Anyone else got a formal complaint?” He calls, giving his hook a twist on his hand. 

A few students murmur, and it’s then that Carlos spots Jay’s scowl from inside the classroom. He might have missed the commotion, but it’s probable that he heard everything. 

The whispers are growing louder, Harry’s grin is growing wider, so Carlos does what he thinks is best in the moment. He grabs Harry by the wrist, Evie by the hand, and drags them both into the classroom. Then, he slams and locks the door. 

His heart feels like it’s beating a mile a minute in his chest. Since when was the last time he had allowed himself to be that close to a conflict? Usually Carlos ran. 

Harry cleared his throat, and Carlos jumped, releasing both him and Evie from his grasp. The pirate looked amused, but Evie was radiating confusion. 

“Gee, pup. If you wanted us all to yourself, you could have just asked.” And before Carlos could say a word, Harry was crowding him up against the desk at the front of the room. He leaned back and swallowed.

“Lay off, Hook.” 

But it wasn’t Evie coming to his rescue, it was Jay, locked in alongside them and making Carlos’s head spin. Harry detached himself from Carlos with the air of a child being deprived of his favorite toy. Him and Jay began to circle each other.

Carlos darted back to Evie to hide behind, and she rested a gentle hand over his.

“I don’t know what this is about, but really? Hook?” 

He let out a short laugh, which turned into a groan. Only Evie saw the way that Harry and Jay’s heads both snapped up at the sound of his quiet laughter. 

“It was the best choice if I didn’t want Mal eviscerating me. You’ve had trouble with her in the past, you should understand.” 

Evie looked at him like he was a complete idiot, which was a look Carlos needed from time to time. He knew that he was smart, except when it came to social issues. Evie never seemed to falter at these things. She was smart, beautiful, and always knew when to fight.

It wasn’t even envy he was feeling, it was admiration. But since this was the Isle, he kept it all to himself.

“Yes, Mal and I have had our differences,” Evie stated quite diplomatically. “However, I chose to look past them and move on to greener pastures.”

“You mean you ignored her.” He said.

“Of course.”

Carlos was even more impressed. Mal was not an easy person to ignore. 

A clatter of chairs startled Carlos and Evie back into the present, which was an empty room save for the two of them, as well as Jay and Harry.

Jay and Harry, of course, had begun to fight in a manner most befitting to them. Harry, with his sword drawn, and Jay pelting him with every object he could get his hands on. 

“You weren’t supposed to start any fights!” Carlos yelped.

“Well this scabby started it!”

Harry turned his attention back to the brawl just in time to see Jay attempt to hit him with a chair. He managed to dodge, but then he was circling over to Carlos, and pulling him towards the window. 

“No, no no no.” He called, but Hook didn’t answer. He shoved Carlos out without so much as a warning.

He duck and rolled on instinct, although the drop wasn’t as far as he thought it was. As annoyed as he was about the pushing, Carlos let out a sigh of relief when Harry joined him on the ground.

“Run!” 

Who was Carlos to deny his favorite instinct. He ran, sliding over tables and leaping through market stalls until Harry wasn’t even behind him. In the distance, he could hear Jay shouting. 

“This way,” Someone called, and it was Harry, who had somehow scrambled onto one of the fences. He lowered a hand and used it to yank Carlos up by the forearm, giving him a once-over as he did so.

“You need to eat more, pup.” Harry chided, and Carlos flicked him in the nose.

“Not the time!” 

Jay’s voice was drawing closer, and Evie’s along with it. He felt a stab of guilt in his stomach for getting her involved, but it wasn’t like it had been intentional. Jay had no reason to hurt her, anyways. 

Carlos and Harry crept over the fence until they managed to reach the edge of a rooftop. The shingles slipped under their feet, they were both drenched with sweat, and burning relief.

From roof to roof they hopped, easy enough for two experienced and wiry young men. It was mid-afternoon when they reached the restaurant- which Carlos had realized was the pirate’s secondary base- Ursula’s Fish and Chips.

Part of him expected to see Jay waiting at the entrance, since it wasn’t a secret where Harry would escape off to, but there was no one. It was almost worse, because it meant that he must be updating Mal. 

“So school’s off the table, huh?” Uma asked out loud, after Harry had given a long, dramatized version of the situation. Carlos gave a silent nod, patting his bag to make sure all of his books and papers were still there.

“Of course Mal is petty enough to run you off, you wouldn’t hurt a fly right now. But you’re gonna turn into something scary de Vil, and she’s scared enough of it to keep an eye out for it.”

The heat in his chest bloomed, and he let his face brighten into a small smile. 

Instead of being mad at him and Harry for running, Uma rewarded them for a successful escape. Carlos licked the salt from the chips off of his fingers, and when he glanced down, there were more on his plate. 

Uma had gone off to chat with the rest of the crew, and the only other people nearby were Gil and Harry. Gil was rambling on about something while Harry appeared disinterested, eating his meal.

Huh. Maybe it was another show of Gil’s nice streak?

It almost made up for the fact that Uma declared he would share a cabin with Gil and Harry.

“What?!” Carlos exclaimed, right at the moment Gil said “Cool!”

“C.J. says you’re a loud sleeper, and you need somewhere with light to read your nerd shit. They have a porthole you can bunk by. Solitude.”

He thinks it over, but it wasn’t as if Uma was giving him the option. This was his newest order, and he was expected to follow it.

“Okay.”

But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder why she didn’t ask him in person last night before she sent Harry to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updating multiple days in a row is new for me, but I don't see the point in waiting when I have it written. why should you guys have to wait?
> 
> thanks for reading, i'm having a lot of fun with this one


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He indeed found Medusa lying in her deep cave.

Gil and Harry’s cabin is larger than the one he was in before, and Carlos watches as Gil pushes a pile of swords into a different corner so that Carlos has the mat next to the porthole.

Looking through it, he can see the Auradon waves crashing against the sides of the barrier. The water inside of it is flat and lifeless, unfit for real sailing. 

It’s sad to watch all of the pirates work together as a well-oiled machine, knowing that they very well might never sail the open ocean.

Other than the ocean, the only noticeable view is the ever-looming gray sky of the Isle, which looks particularly gloomy today.

“Do you like it?” Gil asks, and it takes Carlos a moment to realize he’s talking about the mat on the floor, which Gil must have piled with blankets.

“It’s perfect.” He admits, only because nobody else is in the room. “Better than any bed I’ve had.”

His admission makes something inside him twist, and a warning bell sound off in the back of his head. Be mean! It seems to scream. Be evil!

Gil’s mouth is open in an ‘o’, but when he beams hard enough to show all his teeth, Carlos knows that his discomfort was worth it.

“Dad was always talking about how the bed is the most important piece of the house. Now that you have one, it’s kinda like you’re a real member of the family.”

Carlos is speechless. Not only at the mention of Gaston, but also at the ease in which Gil has accepted him.

“Gil…” He croaks. “I-“

The sound of boots lumbering down the steps cuts Carlos off, but Gil nods as if he understands. He lays down in his own bed which, Carlos notes, is full of stuffed creatures.

Some of them are horrifying, with their mangled ears or buttonless eyes, but there’s a charm in the way that they’ve been stitched by clumsy hands. It doesn’t fit Gil son of Gaston, who is big and strong and Uma’s second mate, but perhaps it fits the Gil who smiles at Carlos whenever he walks inside. The Gil who just called him one of those soft, forbidden words: Family.

Harry kicks in the door looking like a wet cat, and his eyeliner is smeared all the way down to his cheekbones. He’s dripping a puddle of water onto the floor, and he ignores both Gil and Carlos as he stomps over towards his own makeshift bed.

Gil starts laughing.

“Why you-!” Harry shouts, and then they’re wrestling and Carlos lets out a high-pitched sound, pressing back on his mat as they tangle together on the floor. 

“Harry… You look… Amazing!” Gil wheezes, not because Harry is winning, but because he’s laughing too hard. 

In no time at all, Gil has Harry pinned, which causes him to thrash and howl. He even snaps his teeth at Gil’s neck. Carlos finds himself considering Gil yet again. No wonder Uma considers him a valuable ally.

When he finally moves, Harry shoots onto his feet, muttering a slew of angry words.

“Let’s build a barrier to keep the nasty villains out!” He says in a high-pitched voice. “Ooh but let’s allow rain inside so that they can suffer EVEN MORE!”

Carlos is forced to stifle a laugh of his own. He knows that Harry could kick his ass in a one-on-one fight. He still can’t help himself from chiming in.

“Actually, we need the rain for the trees, which produce all of our oxygen. I wonder if the carbon dioxide is able to escape, or if we’re existing in our own greenhouse…” Carlos trails off when he notices that Harry is mimicking his words with his wet sock, which he has pulled onto his hand. 

“Real mature, Hook.”

“Please, call me Harry. It sounds better in bed.” The sultry effect is ruined by his limp hair, soggy clothes, and his ghastly eyeliner. 

Giving Harry the bird isn’t quite as satisfying as it could be, but it’s worth it for Gil’s smile. 

Carlos sits on his mat as he unties his laces, then shoves the boots underneath for safe keeping. It’s lumpy when he crawls on top, but for once he has blankets, and he pulls them around himself with a hum of content.

“Fuck.” He sighs, too happy to hold it in. 

Harry glances back and stares, while Gil gives a little giggle.

“Look at you with only your head sticking out. Do you get that cold?” Carlos shrugs.

It’s then that he notices Harry has stripped off his shirt. He’s facing away from the both of them, since Carlos’s bed is in the middle, but the divots in his hips…

He swallows hard.

Of course he would get an awkward boner the first night bunking with his new crewmates. It has nothing to do with the way Harry shimmies out of his pants, or the way Carlos doesn’t avert his eyes.

He’s seen nudity on the Isle before. Everyone has! But this is Harry Hook, with the wild reputation of kissing boys and girls. Not to mention the rumors about him doing even more.

Carlos wonders how many people have seen Harry in his underwear, and feels conflicted that he’s now included on that list.

“Oi,” Harry calls. “Like what you see?”

He feels his soul leave his body, neck snapping upwards, but Harry isn’t even looking at them. Just teasing, like he always is. Nothing to get worked up about at all.

“You think about sex too much.” Gil complains, if only he knew that Carlos was wilting further into his blanket nest with every word.

“What cannae say? It’s a talent.”

Before Harry or Gil can catch him looking, Carlos shuts his eyes. He can hear the sound of Harry sliding into his bed, as well as the low sounds of the ship creaking.

“You a virgin, de Vil?” 

Carlos doesn’t regret the boot he hurls at Harry, but he does regret not aiming for the head. Harry gives a satisfying yelp anyways.

“Okay, okay.” And then a pause. “Was that your fucking shoe?”

Gil snickers. The boot lands back in Carlos’s lap, and he pushes it underneath his mat once again.

Like most nights, he doesn’t remember falling asleep, although the next morning he can’t bring himself to wake up all the way, what with everything so warm.

“C’mon pup, don’t you want to wander? You seemed like such an early riser.”

Carlos mumbles and wiggles deeper into his blanket nest, tucking his cold feet back inside where they’ve slipped out. Someone laughs, and it’s soft and incredulous. 

A hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, and he presses up into it. He’s not sure where he is in his half-asleep state, but he knows that he’s okay. Cruella would never wake him up like this.

Although, there is something odd about the weight settling down next to him. With great reluctance, Carlos cracks open an eye and lets out a startled shout. 

He finds himself face-to-face with Harry who, for once, isn’t wearing his typical eyeliner. Without it, he kinda resembles one of those Auradon princes. This thought is ripped from his head as Harry gives him a toothy grin. Carlos bares his teeth in return.

“Sleep well?”

Carlos leaps onto him with a battle cry, unconcerned as they tumble onto the floor. Harry’s eyes widen in surprise, but he laughs and joins in.

Dalmations, he even laughs like a wild hyena. It’s a funny choking sound, and Carlos finds himself laughing as well, even as Harry pins him down. 

“Hey!” He shouts, kicking his legs. 

Harry rests his ankles on his calves, keeping Carlos trapped. 

“And you thought you could get the jump on me!” 

He scoffs, wiggling for a moment more before he goes limp in Harry’s grasp.

“It was worth a shot.”

When the grip around his wrists loosens, Carlos takes a moment to reach up and poke under Harry’s eye. Harry leans back, squinting.

“You washed it off. Or was it just the rain?” He allows himself a cheeky smile.

It earns him a scowl in return, and Harry rolls off.

“Gonna have to get more somehow. Good thing those princesses are always chucking makeup.”

Carlos makes a sound, but he can’t even process fast enough to retaliate. Harry Hook wearing princess makeup from Auradon? As if catching his train of thought, Harry scoops up his hook.

“You tell anyone, you’re dead meat de Vil.”

He crosses his heart, and Harry rolls his eyes at the sarcastic gesture. Carlos realizes something with a start.

“Hey, you didn’t call me pup.”

Harry jolts and turns away to hide his face.

“Nay, I did.”

“You didn’t! 

With a quiet scoff, so quiet Carlos almost misses it, Harry stalks out of the room. He feels himself smile. That felt like a win. 

When Carlos reaches the top deck, Uma is lounging behind the wheel. 

“Finally decided to join us, huh crewman?” She calls. He gives a sheepish shrug. “Well good. I’m your teacher and your captain today.” 

Carlos fumbles the sword when she tosses it to him, only barely managing to catch it by the hilt. Uma snorts, stalking down the stairs. She draws her own blade.

“It isn’t sharp, numbskull. Like I’d waste one of those on a newbie.” 

His sword lessons had started the day after he agreed to join the crew, although it felt more like an opportunity for the crew to rough the shit out of him. They often made him hold the sword out in front of his body till his arms couldn’t hold on. 

Uma, it would seem, had a different plan of training in store. She came at him, her feet twisting easily enough for Carlos to tell that she was holding back. It still didn’t make it easy to dodge.

He yelped when her sword knocked against his and flung it from his grip. To his relief, she leaned back.

“Oh come on! Tighten your grip, you’re smart enough to learn this.” 

Despite the annoyance in her voice, Carlos felt comforted by the almost-compliment. Bonus, she hadn’t taken a swing at him when he was unarmed. He scooped up his weapon with haste, and hummed in response to her nod of approval.

He had watched the pirates fight before, even from when he was just a kid. It wasn’t uncommon to catch a glimpse of Captain Hook twirling his sword around the market back when he dominated part of the Isle.

Uma’s style was nothing like Hook’s. She was short, but strong and agile too, and she didn’t let Carlos forget it. Multiple times he found himself backed against the rail, and he started paying attention to his surroundings like she did. 

They dueled for what felt like forever, and he was grateful for the hours spent holding the sword in front of him. At the time it had felt pointless, but now it was all he could do not to drop the damned thing.

“Alright!” She finally shouted, when he jumped onto one of the barrels to avoid a swing. Something gleamed in her eye.

Carlos panted, feeling his shoulders wilt. Sweat was running in between his shoulder blades. He knew he couldn’t take much more of this.

“Your last lesson for today. Can you guess what it is?” With a pang of suspicion, Carlos shook his head.

“Pirates. Fight. Dirty.” And Uma kicked the barrel out from under him.

“Fuck!” He shrieked, toppling over the rail. 

For a moment he was weightless, and then he hit the water hard. His back lit up with pain. Carlos stayed still, his skin overwhelmed by the cold feeling. He moved his hands around, but the water felt too thick to move.

He kept his mouth shut, despite the fact that his lungs burned for air. His legs kicked uselessly. 

A muffled splash sounded next to him, and then an arm was tugging him up to the surface. Carlos gasped for air, body unfrozen as he tried to kick his legs.

“Stay still!” Uma demanded in his ear, and he went limp. She tugged him over to the side, where there was netted rope. 

His hands clung to the rope, and he followed her example by climbing. 

When both of their feet reached the deck, the crew was watching, and somebody rubbed a towel over his head. Carlos pushed at it, revealing Gil’s worried face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, and exhaled when Carlos choked out a yes.

A light pressure cupped his forearm, and he couldn’t help jerking away, although he bumped straight into Gil’s chest.

“Hey, chill.” Said Uma, holding her hands up to show she meant no harm. “That was on me, I didn’t think about you not swimming. It sucked, right?”

Well that was an easy question. Carlos nodded.

“I’ll get Gil to teach you whenever you’re ready. Gil, you hear that?” Gil snapped a hasty salute. 

“Yessir!” Gil called.

Carlos felt his mouth twitch. 

Even after a direct order, Gil was always so eager to please. How did a son of Gaston end up with such an Auradonian temperament?

He tugged the towel from Gil with careful hands, and worked on drying off his hair. All of a sudden, it occurred to him.

“Wait, Um- Uh… Captain! The sword you gave me went overboard.” 

Uma didn’t even glance back when she waved him off. 

“I’ll send someone to get it later, if the stupid croc doesn’t try to eat it first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just love gil so much


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole family finally decided to leave Seriphos and return to Argos, keeping it a secret from King Acrisius. There, one day, Perseus took part in a sport competition.

See, the problem with the Isle was the complete lack of organization.

When Carlos was six years old (or so adults said he looked), he drew out a plan for a new and improved Isle. It wasn’t forming the Isle where the heroes went wrong, even if they did forget to account for villain kids.

No, the problem with the Isle was that the mediocre villains got paired up right alongside the rapists and the killers. The crocodile that got Captain Hook did bite his hand off but, well, he is a crocodile. Any non-biting behavior would be unnatural.

Putting the likes of the Evil Queen next door to Hans made perfect sense. Both attempted murder, they should be tried for the same crimes. But Cruella was hunting vicious beasts for the good of the world at large. Sure she was kinda creepy about the coat thing, but why should she be in the same place?

Even if killing dogs was (for some idiotic reason) a bad thing to do, Cruella should be sorted into a different place. And that’s how six-year-old Carlos came up with his genius diagram scribbled in stubs of crayon: The Isle, and The Isle 2. 

There’s a poet in a book that Carlos likes who claims purgatory has different levels of punishment. If the heroes are so good, he thinks, they should have fair systems of justice in place.

Cruella may have yanked him around all those years, thrown a few things, left marks of her nails sinking into his arms, but on certain days she didn’t even get out of bed. How was that causing trouble?

Those were the days when Carlos tip-toed around the house, even though he knew she wouldn’t yell. Even though he knew she wouldn’t do anything at all. He scanned the markets for furs of any kind, and hurried back with a stolen snack, or a rabbit’s foot, or any present he could find.

And she’d lift her head from where her makeup had crusted her pillow and offer her hand, and he would bump his head into it. 

Encouraging the ‘dog thing’ was a mixed bag. On Cruella’s bad days, it could coax out a smile. Not one of her broad sneers, or wide grins, but a soft tilt of the lips for his eyes to drink in.

These moments waned as Carlos grew older, and even on her bad days she began slinging curses his way. 

Gone was Cruella who sang in French while he swept the house, dancing along on his small feet with the beat of the broom. Gone were the moments in the market where she allowed him to cower behind her, and instead, she shoved him into the crowd.

She could have been his mother once, he thinks. Carlos knows that something is wrong with her, that Auradon wouldn’t help. He finds stacks of papers scattered under her bed with words that make no sense. 

By the time he finally pilfers a book with the definitions, all of his hope dies in the flip of a page. 

Auradon stopped giving Cruella medicine for her head, and now he has the scars to prove it. 

Sharks live on the other side of the barrier, according to Uma. Carlos has never seen a shark before, not even in a picture, but they sound terrifying. Huge monsters with too many teeth, just like dogs. Sea dogs.

Dangerous animals are fine with Auradon until they eat a hand- it’s not like carnivores exist or anything. Yet, he gets a strong feeling that there wasn’t much of a debate as to who ended up on the Isle. Those royal knobs in blue and yellow sound too proud of themselves on TV. They made the final call.

As much as Carlos envies Auradon, it isn’t until his body stacks on muscle from all the sword training, he’s eating with the pirate crew, and he’s sleeping in a warm space that he begins to resent the heroes. 

He’s hated non-villain kids from the moment Cruella first raised her hand. But that was simple kiddie jealousy. This sort of hate reaches deeper, rips out the same dark feeling that he sees mirrored in the depths of Harry’s eyes. 

Speaking of Harry, the reason he’s having an existential crisis is, in fact, due to Uma’s first mate.

When Uma said that the crew threw a monthly bash, Carlos thought that she was kidding. Parties were a non-existent commodity with Maleficent combing the Isle. But since it was Uma (a villain kid) and encompassed a small crowd (her pirate crew) it seemed as though Maleficent couldn’t be bothered to give a shit.

Once, Uma claims to have invited Maleficent herself, which has Carlos’ jaw dropping. 

“You’re kidding.” He says, begging her with his eyes to agree.

“Nope!” She calls in reply. “The old bat showed up too, but she left pretty quick. Not my fault she can’t understand prime-time entertainment.” 

This month’s bash is set to begin at 11 pm, and Carlos is yawning the entire time he swabs the deck in preparation. Chores on the ship aren’t bad, since he gets rewarded with food and all. Besides, even though Uma doesn’t join them for grunt work, it’s obvious that she’s loaded with other boring tasks.

Planning parties is, according to her, one of her more fun responsibilities. 

Night comes, and Carlos resigns himself to sneaking away to his warm bed at the first opportunity. Gil is arm-wrestling kids in the corner, and he beams whenever he wins (every time, it’s not even a competition). Uma sits on a crate, regaling her crew with stories passed down from Ursula about the sea. He’s lost sight of Harry.

That was his first mistake.

“Pup! Don’tcha wanna come gimme a hand?” A low voice shouts, and Carlos swivels to see Harry climb up the stairs with a jug of his moonshine in the cup of his hands. All of the unoccupied crew let out a resounding cheer.

He heads on over, searching around for what Harry wants to do before he notices the strange glint in his eye.

“Oh no,” Carlos starts, but Harry is already raising his hook up in the air.

“Carlos A. de Vil!” He shouts. 

A? Carlos thinks.

“I challenge thee to a drinking contest! First man flat on his back is no longer a man.” 

Everyone oohs, but Carlos just crosses his arms. Why should he care about a shitty drinking contest?

“And what does the winner get?” He questions, since Carlos was born to keep running his mouth, apparently. 

Harry shoots him an unnerving smirk. He lounges on one of the crates as well, managing to make it look somehow graceful. Fuck that guy. His hook makes a noise as it scratches against the wood, and all of a sudden, a brilliant idea springs into Carlos’ head.

“I want to wear your hook for a week.” He demands.

Harry’s smirk melts into a scowl. 

“No way in Atlantis, Pup.” 

Carlos taps on the bottom of his chin. He feels powerful now that he has everyone’s attention gathered. And nervous, but he’s learning to shove that part down and ignore it, especially in front of the crew.

“For a day, then.”

With a tip of his head, Harry deliberates this in his head before giving a deliberate shrug.

“Sure, why not. Y’ain’t gonna best me anyways, might as well go high stakes. If I win, you owe me a favor.”

Not one to be taken for a fool, Carlos squints. 

“What kind of favor? Building something? Fetching you ropes?”

“You’d like to fetch, wouldn’t you, Pup?”

A hum of snickers breaks the air around them.

“Fine!” Carlos calls, seeing no other option. He spits in his hand, Harry doing the same, and they shake. Carlos sits across from Harry, the other pirates circle around, and Uma struts over with a couple of large goblets.

Hold on. Isn’t this stuff pretty strong? 

Harry is filling his goblet up to the brim though, and Carlos can’t afford to look weak in front of this many people. He copies as best as he can, and they knock the goblets together. 

“Cheers!” Harry shouts. “ _ Santé _ .” Carlos mumbles. They both begin to drink. 

It tastes fucking awful. He coughs, and somebody thumps him on the back with a hearty chuckle. Harry is already tipping his head back, so Carlos squeezes his eyes shut and gulps more down. By the time he’s almost done, he can see Harry licking the dregs from the edge of the metal.

“Alright, alright,” Uma calls. “Another round!” And Carlos resists the urge to groan. The liquor sinks in his stomach like a rock, and he cringes when it settles. 

Drinks are poured. Harry gives him a sharp grin, looking up at him through his eyelashes. Carlos’ neck feels hot.

“Ready? Go!” Gil shouts, and Harry starts chugging his drink. A bead of moonshine drips down the side of his mouth. Carlos watches it until C.J. shoves his shoulder.

“Stop that! Drink.” She orders, and he complies. His flush has spread up to his cheeks by the time he finishes his second cup.

Actually, Carlos is swaying in his seat. Harry looks the same as usual, if you ignore the tousled hair from where he’s thrown his hat off. The tips of his ears are pink.

“You feelin’ sloshy yet, de Vil?” Harry crows, and Carlos sticks out his tongue.

His vision tilts as he reaches for the goblet again, taking a couple gulps of liquor from the top. It turns out his efforts are in vain, considering the quick, practiced way that Harry downs his own cupful. 

“Shit.” Carlos whines. Someone tips the bottom of his goblet so he’s forced to drink. He tugs at the edge of his jacket, for the first time grateful to be wearing Dizzy’s stupid crop top. It’s way too hot out here.

He practically slumps over the table after that one, and Uma hauls him up by the shoulders to inspect his eyes. 

She releases her grasp, and he promptly collapses back off of the crate. A cheer goes up, and Carlos groans, wondering when the sky started spinning. Gil offers him a hand, and his groan turns into a laugh.

He slumps on Gil, who doesn’t seem to mind, and watches as Harry climbs atop his crate to give a dramatic bow. The rest of the crew has begun helping themselves to the drink at Uma’s bidding, save for Gil and herself.

Everything feels so much… more. His grip on Gil is loose, his body pliant as they spin around like a couple of giggling idiots when someone begins belting out a tune. Uma cuts in, and the rough slide of her hands against Carlos’ makes him grin so hard his cheeks hurt. 

She ruffles his hair, flouncing off to enjoy the rest of the party, and Carlos is breathless for a moment as he watches the joyous crew. He’s never seen this many happy people in his entire life. 

And he’s here as a part of it. No wonder the air feels like it’s been sucked right out of him. It’s impossible to believe.

“Care for a dance?” 

Carlos rolls his eyes, and he rests a hand on his hip as he turns. He’s unsurprised to see Harry swaggering on over in his direction. He straightens up to his full height, until his eyes reach about nose-high. Shit, Hook is fucking tall. 

“You’re fucking tall.” He slurs, and Harry laughs, pulling at one of his hands. 

He goes easy enough, curious to see where this is going. Part of him expects something mocking or obscene, but instead Harry just waltzes, resting his hand on the back of Carlos’ waist.

Although he’s not quite sure what to do (even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to think about it now), Carlos places a hand over Harry’s shoulder and stumbles over the steps with him. He’s terrible, of course, but instead of making fun of it, Harry begins to hum.

They dance for a while: Harry is able to startle a laugh out of him with a spin and Carlos gets revenge by tripping up his feet. A couple of crew members have already passed out right on the deck, and Carlos finds his mind getting slower and slower until he’s slumped against Harry’s shoulder and mumbling nonsense.

“There there, ya lousy lightweight.” Harry leads him over to the stairs, and they stumble down them together like a couple of vertigo-ridden hyenas. 

He can’t even muster up the energy to say thank you as he slumps over onto his bed, boots and all. There’s a warm weight that settles down, Carlos takes a peek and he notices that Harry is in his space, with an arm and a leg slung on top of him. 

“Off.” He mutters, with complete coherence, 

“No.” Drunk Harry replies.

Carlos gives a lazy shove, but in the back of his fuzzy brain, he notes that his bed is even warmer now, even if it’s because there’s an asshole in it. He presses his cheek into the soft crook of Harry’s arm, and then he’s out. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the meanwhile, King Polydectes began to be inflamed by passion for Danae, who was still a charming lady although many years had passed since her youth.

Waking up has never before felt so taxing.

Carlos awakens to the sway of the ship and fur pressed against his mouth. Except then he remembers that there should no longer be furs, and when he leans back, he finds that it was Hook’s hair his nose was buried in. 

Gross.

With special care, he untangles himself from the mess of Harry’s sprawled limbs, pausing to shoot a fond look at where Gil is slumped face down on his own mat. Harry looks peaceful as well in the weak morning light, his lips relaxed, and face otherwise not contorted into one of its usual sneers. It’s a little unnerving. 

With a yawn, Carlos stretches his hands above his head and starts for the top deck. His mouth is drier than the desert, and he doesn’t hesitate to take hearty gulps from the first abandoned tankard he sees.

He squints at the morning light, holding another yawn back behind his teeth. If Harry wasn’t taking up ¾ of his bed at the moment, he would consider going back to sleep. Last night feels like a blur, what with the drinking contest and the dancing, it takes considerable concentration to recall the end of the night, when him and Harry tripped their way down the stairs and into his bed.

A blush rises up to his cheeks, and Carlos rubs them with a stern grimace. No, that was all on Hook. Harry was the one who refused to get up, if he remembers right. Either way, he makes a strong note to never drink again.

His stomach growls, startling him out of his thoughts. Making his way off of the ship, Carlos can already hear muffled shouting coming from the interior of Fish n’ Chips. The thought of eating anything as salty as seafood makes his stomach churn.

Instead of heading in, he slips into the alley off to the side and makes his way towards the center of the Isle. Today is the weekend, not that it makes much of a difference, but the villains liked to pretend that it afforded them some kind of a holiday. As a result, more wares were trading hands than usual.

“Cursed amulets! Get your cursed amulets here!” A voice shouts, and another becomes louder to drown it out.

“Nobody wants an amulet these days you old fogey! Come buy a pair of cursed slippers to try on for size…” 

He snorts, giving a nod to the owners of stalls he recognizes while pretending not to see their glares. Carlos had missed the chaos of the market, for whatever reason. 

It was where he had spent the most time, excluding time spent on chores, after all. 

Loud, chaotic, and messy, yet it ran like a well-oiled machine. That was something he knew how to appreciate. It was easy to pass the time by sitting on the rooftop (out of the reach of sly hands) and watching the bartering happen before his own eyes.

Today he slides through the crowd with as much inconspicuousness that new outfit affords him. Vendors were used to stopping a tiny kid wearing board shorts from robbing them blind, not a pirate flashing ample amounts of skin. 

Carlos snatches a couple of apples with a laugh, spinning to dodge a hand that makes an attempt to grab him. He bobs and weaves like it was second nature as he ran, listening close for the shouting coming from behind him. It didn’t follow, and for that, he was more than grateful. Finally, a breakfast to be spent in peace.

Living with a crew had proved to be great, but it was one thing to chat with Gil versus getting knocked around by a bunch of rowdy crewmates eager for food. 

Carlos scampers up the side of a shack with one of the apples in his mouth and the other hidden in his pocket. He yanks himself over the ledge and onto the roof, resting his hands on his hips and allowing himself to relax. A creak sounded behind him. 

He whips around to come face to face with Jay who was standing actual inches away, and who then proceeds to bend down and bite into the other side of the apple, tugging it away from Carlos’s mouth. He lets out a muffled yell of protest.

“Hey!”

Jay grins, scooping up the apple away to take a deeper bite. The juice smears on his lips. 

“Should’ve been paying closer attention, de Vil.” 

Carlos rests his hands on his hips and glares.

“Aw, don’t look at me like that. I know you can get more.” 

His hand twitches, tempted to reach for his second apple, and Jay’s eyes follow the movement like a predator on the prowl. “Gotcha.”

Carlos covers the pocket and narrows his eyes, but Jay waves him off.

“I’m not here to take all your breakfast, for once. You interrupted me on my way home, you know. Quickest way is by roof. Just got back from seeing Mal.” 

With another crunch, Jay bites a chunk out of the apple, acting nonchalant. Carlos knows better than this, and he watches him with blatant suspicion. 

“So?” He’s been caught unaware too many times, especially by the king of thieving himself. 

No matter how relaxed of an air Jay puts on, Carlos predicts that his eyes are always on the hunt for his next score. Jay clears his throat before he responds.

“So we were just discussing you, believe it or not. You know what they say…” 

Carlos groans, holding up his hands like they’ll protect him from the terrible punchline.

“No-”

“Speak of the de Vil.”

His palm smacks into his forehead with enough force to echo off the walls of the neighboring building. Jay has a big grin on his face like he’s never been more proud of himself in his life. 

“That was so bad!” Carlos exclaims, pacing back and forth on the roof. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that Mal sent you here to torture me.”

Jay quirks an eyebrow, the smirk softening.

“Oh yeah? And what tells you that I’m not.”

With a huff, Carlos crosses his arms and looks away. His voice comes out in a petulant tone.

“She seems like the type to play with her food.”

Bobbing his head back and forth, Jay graces him with a nod of consideration.

“Fair enough. Nice new digs, by the way. Did your sugar mommy put them on your back?”

“Ha ha. Uma takes care of her own, unlike most villains in this shit place.” Carlos feels a surge of protectiveness welling up in the pit of his chest. 

Despite his instantaneous defense, Jay doesn’t look all that convinced.

“I dunno dude, that doesn’t sound super, well, evil to me. Isn’t that what we’re all going for?”

A hint of uncertainty clouds Jay’s voice, and Carlos finds himself leaning forwards in curiosity.

However both of their ears catch the tail end of footsteps at the same time, and the two exchange a look before glancing over the edge.

Flouncing down the alleyway with her makeup done to perfection and her shoes clicking against the stone, Evie appears to be inspecting her nails.

She looks good, better than Carlos has seen in a while if he says so himself. Her cheeks are no longer as sallow under the blush as they were before, and there’s a stronger confidence in the way she holds herself tall. 

“Yo, Eves!” Jay shouts, and Carlos starts in surprise, almost tipping over the edge. 

Evie gazes up and rolls her eyes at Jay, although her breath catches when she notices Carlos. There’s a second where she blinks at him in disbelief, before her expression flickers with an emotion that resembles hurt.

Not that anybody on the Isle would express hurt ever, especially in a public space, no matter how many years they spent in home school. 

“Jay,” She responds in a measured tone, and offers a neutral curtsy. “...Carlos.” 

“Hey Evie.” He calls, his voice softer than intended. Carlos knows his brain is firing on empty as he searches for something to say, but it still doesn’t override his knowledge that Jay is watching.

Her arms cross and he winces, lowering down behind the edge. At least, that’s what Carlos tries to do before Jay is shoving him down into the haystacks below.

“Fuck!”

He flails and sputters once he lands, clamoring to his feet and clenching his hands into fists. Carlos feels livid, but by Evie’s sigh, he knows that he looks more pitiful than intimidating. Jay is snickering.

“Carlos,” Evie speaks again, tapping on his shoulder. 

He turns, scratching the back of his neck. It’s difficult not to feel guilty, but he knows that staying out of class was necessary to survive, even if it cost them both their only comrade in the process.

Evie regards him with a long look before she reaches out and flicks his nose. Carlos lets out a sound at the pain and leans back.

“That’s for leaving me behind.” She says with a huff, but he hears the underlying message all the same:

I forgive you. I’m glad that you’re okay.

Or at least that’s what he’d like to think she’s saying.

By this point Jay has joined them on the ground, and Carlos has to resist the urge to tackle him in a petty scrap he’s destined to lose. 

“Did you hear from your- from Cruella yet? We just found out, and-” Jay clears his throat, and Evie’s red mouth gives a twitch of thinly veiled irritation.

“Did I hear what?” Carlos asks, but Evie doesn’t respond, although she does continue shooting a mutinous glare at Jay. He feels his eyebrows furrow. “Evie, you’re not in with him and Mal, are you?”

For the first time since meeting Evie, he could swear that she almost looks sheepish. One of her hands sneaks up to fiddle with an earring. 

“Well, you were gone, and she approached me herself to ask…”

Carlos is aware in the vaguest sense that his mouth is hanging open.

“But you and Mal hate each other!” Evie narrows her eyes.

“Just like you hate Uma?” His mouth snaps shut with a click of his teeth, and she inclines her head in apology. “I know you were doing what was best for you, but so was I, and I don’t regret it. Besides, our parents are close, and there’s information you should-”

“Well!” Jay interrupts, laying his arm over Evie’s shoulder, and giving a harsh wince when she slams her arm back into his sternum. “It sure was interesting catching up with you de VIl, but I think it’s time I walk the lady home.”

It’s a dismissal, which pisses Carlos off on impulse, but when he looks up Evie gives a slight shake of her head. He exhales.

“Fine. Don’t choke on my breakfast.” He mutters, and Jay takes another pointed bite. Carlos scurries back up onto a nearby building.

He takes one last peek back at Evie and Jay, who appear to be locked in a heated argument. Jay is relaxed, although on the defensive, and neither of them have pulled weapons, so Carlos is going to assume Evie has this. 

If he had a dollar every time he had witnessed Evie stick a knife into someone for so much as speaking to her the wrong way. Well. 

There was a reason the Evil Queen was so widely feared. 

His walk from the docks is less eventful than before, since he takes the back-backroads this time. Gutter kids scatter when they see him, and he keeps his shoulders squared as he strolls back that way.

Carlos missed the taste of apples, even if he had eaten enough over the years to get sick of them. Food was food, and if you only had apples to eat all week, then you ate unless you could trade for something better.

Plus, food without a strong odor tended to be easier to hide from Cruella. 

He scratches the bend of his arm at the thought of her. Evie was trying to tell him something about their parents, something important by the sound of it, and something Jay didn’t want him to know. 

Carlos made a note to drop by the castle later and see if he could wheedle information out of her. It was either that or visit Cruella herself, but that was a suicide mission as well as a last resort. At least the Evil Queen took pity on him.

Her version of pity was making him sit in a chair and force Evie to cover his bruises with talcum and other dusty things in order to practice her makeup, or something. They never talked during those afternoons, hardly made eye-contact really. 

On the worst days he shuffled to the door and attempted not to fall into a dead faint while the Evil Queen cooed and dragged him inside. Evie’s face weaving in and out of his vision. Once, his head got hurt- No.

Once, Cruella pushed him into her dresser and his head banged off of the frame. He couldn’t even see for a moment, the pain was so intense. Slumped on the Evil Queen’s door, pulled inside to act as a doll as Evie watched with her lips drawn tight in muted horror.

And then he threw up on their floor and he wasn’t allowed to take refuge again.

Hopefully, some of that pitiful charm still carried over, and the Evil Queen wouldn’t turn him away at the door. Best case scenario is that Evie would open it and tell him what’s wrong. Maybe he should try and sneak in through her window instead. 

Carlos lets out a deep sigh and lets his face tip back towards the gray sky. It looks brighter today, and it even feels a little warmer than usual. He’ll take the miracles where he can get them, he supposes.

The briny smell of the docks no longer makes his stomach turn as it once used to. Instead, it evokes a strange feeling of fondness. It must be more warm than he thought, because the feeling only spreads when he spots Harry, Gil, and Uma.

Harry is mid-yawn, and looks as though he’s about to fall over at any second. Uma is rolling her eyes as Gil chatters on. She’s the first one to notice him.

“Hey de Vil! Today I’ve got a job for you.”

Carlos cocks his head and ties his bandana on tighter. “Yeah? Restaurant duty again?”

Uma grins like a shark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> awww yeah, it's all coming together
> 
> i'm bad at replying to comments on here but feel free to send asks to my tumblr (saucefx)!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Polydectes had not known was that Perseus was beloved by the gods. To help him, god Hermes gave him a curved sword and a pair of winged sandals. With these divine aids, Perseus started his long journey to the cave of Medousa.

Of all the things Carlos expected when Uma led him down the beach, he was least expecting for her to lead him to a familiar-looking model of a certain barrier-breaking machine. Familiar because he designed it.

“What.” He says.

Gil bounces up and down while Harry leans up against the machine in question. It was Harry, who then holds up the blueprint from his treehouse. The one that was supposed to be in their cabin.

“Hook,” Carlos growls, but stops when Uma claps a hand down onto his shoulder.

“Actually, it was Gil who found it. Really, de Vil? Hiding shit under your bed? And I thought you paid attention in villain school.” 

Despite himself, Carlos can feel a bright blush lighting up his cheeks. He tugs the collar of his jacket up. 

Harry is fiddling with one of the bits on the side, and a mechanic’s instinct snaps inside of Carlos. Without further ado, he struts over and shoves Harry aside. Eyes widen in surprise, but Harry gives a dramatic bow, stepping back to observe.

“It looks like you got everything right, except these bolts should be tighter-” Gil is handing him a wrench before he finishes his sentence. 

Carlos wants to ask a million questions about how they had scavenged all the materials, why they had trusted his plans in the first place, but he can already answer them in his head.

Desperation. 

With the kids filling up the pirate ship and the adults getting more unstable by the day, it was no wonder Uma seized her first chance at a way off the Isle. Even if that chance was a crapshot in the dark designed by Carlos of all people.

He pries open the panels and unwraps the frayed cables, handling them gentler than raw eggs. After all, it looks as though each individual cable has been rewrapped with painstaking care. 

Carlos takes his time winding them from their bundle across the sand and down into where the surf was waiting. The ends sit in the wet sand, soaking up all of the salt ions. He can picture the chemistry in his head, little molecules and formulas from the back of his books finally serving their purpose at last. 

He peels off one end of tape and attaches it to the end of the magnet, as chipped and battered as it appears. All they can hope for was that it's still powerful enough to create a working current.

“Okay.” Carlos whispers to himself, then stands up and shakes the jitters out of his hands. “Okay!” He calls louder, waving at Uma. “Flip the switch.”

“That’s it?” Uma shoots her doubtful expression at the dinghy machine with her brows furrowed. “I thought you were going to add more.”

He shakes his head, and after one last considering gaze, she seems to accept it. Carlos backs up so that he is standing on dry sand, although he keeps his distance from the machine itself. Actually, as Uma flicks the switch, he calls out for them to back up as well.

A whirring sound fills the air, and the pirates run over to where Carlos stands without hesitation. The machine is shaking now, rattling its components around as it shudders and groans. 

Then the ray of light shoots out.

It's blinding, brighter than any lantern on the Isle or any flashlight Carlos had ever seen. It looks like magic, but it isn't magic, it's science. The light strikes the barrier with a terrific booming noise.

For decades the barrier had remained a thin film muffling the sights of the outside world. Now, however, it lights up in a terrific swirl of electric purples and blues. Another light shoots out and strikes beside the third, with another tremendous noise. Uma is shouting beside him.

Carlos, however, waits for the end. It's a pretty light show, but will it work will it work will it _work_ -

The third bolt of light strikes the barrier above the first two, and a small hole is formed.

He yells, pumping his fist. Carlos can't believe it, he glances at Harry and sees his eyes reflecting flashes of the purple lights, his mouth hanging agape in pure awe.

And as the whirring of the machine increases, Carlos gets the distinct feeling he does every time one of his experiments goes wrong. 

“Get down!” He yells, with the hairs of his arms on end, and yanks Harry down beside him for good measure. Whether they can hear him or not, Uma and Gil notice the sudden movement and follow suit not a moment too soon.

The wet sand makes a horrible popping and sizzling sound, which races across the wires and up to the machine. The machine, already struggling to contain the electrical power, promptly catches on fire.

Uma moves as if to get up, but Carlos shoots out his hand. He’d seen this reaction enough to know what was coming. As the machine shakes harder, caught in a self-perpetuating inferno, the top blows off with an explosion that is truly epic.

Its bright beams cease the moment the machine falls apart, and the hole in the barrier snaps shut with the resounding echo of a giant rubber band. This time, Carlos does not stop Uma from getting up and running towards it. Instead, he follows.

Tiny metal fragments of the top litter the sand, but to his relief, the bottom remains undamaged. 

“We were so close, Uma says, her voice shaking. 

Carlos expects a tantrum. He's heavy with the pit of disappointment underneath his joy, wiggling its way into his chest. Instead, Uma laughs and spins him around by the hands.

“We were so close!” She cries, and Gill punches the air in triumph with a smile wide enough to show all of his teeth.

Hands caught, Carlos is too stunned to do anything but spin with her. He caves into the cautious smile blooming on his mouth.

“Almost. You really almost…” 

Carlos turns to see Harry staring right at him with an unreadable expression. He shifts his feet, leaning back, and Harry’s face softens. Just for a second.

Then his usual feral grin returns.

“I knew you were gonna set us free pup!” Harry calls, grabbing Carlos and raking his knuckles over the top of his hair. 

Despite knowing it was borne out of affection, Carlos yells and squirms. Harry releases him, and Gil pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Good job Carlos.” Gil whispers, voice full of nothing but joy.

For whatever reason, the words in Carlos's throat stick. His head is spinning with both the sudden praise and his success. 

Uma taps Gil on the shoulder, and he releases Carlos to go chatter at Harry. For once, Harry doesn't even look exasperated to be the complete focus of Gil’s scattered attention. Instead, he tugs him over to clasp arms.

“Carlos de Vil,” Uma begins, and Carlos’s attention sways to his captain. Her hand reaches out to push at his shoulders and he goes along with her direction, dropping down to a knee.

She draws her sword and a sudden swoop of fear overtakes his gut. What if she's going to decapitate him? What if he didn’t do enough?

Uma places the blade on either shoulder of his, and he keeps his chin tipped up, digging his teeth into his lower lip. If Carlos is to die at her hands, he can go out with pride knowing he had at least almost succeeded. Plus, with her sword skills, he knows it'll be quick. Uma would never miss.

“I hereby name you as my fourth mate. Under Gil, Harry, and then me, you are the brains of our crew. For what you lack in experience you make up in heart- even if you did come to us looking less threatening than a limp noodle.”

From behind him, Harry snickers, but Carlos keeps his eyes locked onto Uma’s face. She quirks her lips, sheathing her sword yet again. Then, Uma unclasps the other sheath on her hip, and holds the second sword out for him.

Carlos rises to his feet, and if he sways nobody calls him out on it. He takes the sword and rubs his thumb along the detailed scabbard. It has a wolf etched into the side. It's ridiculous. He chokes back a fond cocktail of emotion anyways. 

“Are- Are you sure? I mean, I’ve only been here for a few months, why me? Not that I think you or Harry or Gil would fall in battle, but I don’t have it in me to lead-”

A playful smack to the back of the head startles him out of his thoughts. Gil is standing there with a stern look on his face.

“You’re part of THE crew, but you’re also a part of OUR crew.”

Carlos waits for him to elaborate, and when he doesn't, he looks at Harry and Uma. Harry gives a scoff and looks away while Uma’s shoulders rise into an unhelpful shrug.

“You think I’m gonna let anybody else take care of my crew? Lot of idiots they are. Including you three-” Here Gil and Harry let out indignant squawks. “But you’re still my priority. Don’t strain that brain of yours trying to overthink it, de Vil.”

And just like that, Uma waves her hand like the conversation is over. Carlos's mouth moves as he searches for words.

“You lot clean up here and figure out what we can save. We’re trying this again, except we’re gonna make it big enough to free the ship. Got it?” His head moves in a dumb nod, and Uma smirks as if she understands.

Without further fanfare, Uma strolls off, humming a cheerful pirate shanty.

Carlos stands with his feet buried in the sand, reeling with all of this new information. He feels overwhelmed enough to collapse, but there's a burning surge of happie- no, of course not, of content lighting up his insides.

When a shoulder bumps into his since he failed to start helping them clean, Carlos nudges it back, knowing on instinct that it's Harry’s. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> realizing that i'm just as big of a nerd as carlos has shaken my world
> 
> also y'all i promise i'm not playing i'll deliver that jaylos content


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Acrisius cast his daughter and grandson into a wooden chest and set them into the wild sea to get drowned.

* * *

The previous day

* * *

For all that Jay refused to find his own business, there were some things that felt less villainous and more, well. Straight-up fucked.

Take Cruella, for instance. 

A week ago she’d missed Maleficent’s summons, which forced Mal to spend all afternoon calming her mom down from a violent temper tantrum. When Jafar and Jay went to fetch Cruella (and moreover avoid Maleficent’s wrath), the two of them found Hell Hall a mess.

Leaving one’s door unlocked just wasn’t done on the Isle. Yet when Jay pushed, it swung right open at his touch.

Counters and chairs were covered by a thin layer of dust which appeared long-settled. Broken wine glasses were scattered in front of the couch, leaving a dangerous trail which led to one of the bedrooms.

“Melodramatic as always.” Jafar muttered. 

As much as Jay hated to agree with his dad on anything, he had to admit that Jafar was right in this case. If what Maleficent was throwing counted as a temper tantrum, this meltdown was a fit of insanity. Jay was even further unnerved by the preserved animals hanging on the wall, who stared down at him with their cold, dead eyes. 

A large amount of the mounts had been torn down from where they must have hung on the walls, and now sported bright red kiss marks across their stained fur. Wallpaper was scraped away from the wall- scratched away by nails from the look of it- and stretched down the entire hallway itself.

Before he so much as touched the door to the bedroom, Jafar drew his knife. Upon seeing this, a rush of adrenaline lit up Jay’s body, and he did the same. His small switchblade had nothing on Jafar’s intimidating dagger, but it would do. 

Jafar shoved open the door and there Cruella was, lying a pile of her own furs. It was obvious that she’d been smoking an obscene amount of homemade cigarettes, as she was now surrounded by their scattered ashes.

“My puppy has left me.” Cruella announced, and Jay felt something unpleasant tug inside of his chest. 

With his mouth twisted into a deep frown, Jafar made his way over to her and plucked the last lit cigarette out of her skeletal hand. She didn’t react apart from one slow blink. Jafar continues. 

“Yes, yes, we’ve all heard how your idiot son has become a wharf rat. You’re still lounging around here moping? Maleficent summoned you to a meeting if you do not recall. I’d rather ditch as well, but I suggest you cooperate lest she comes after your head.”

A beat of silence.

“...Or your furs.”

This reason of all reasons stirred Cruella into action, and she bared her teeth wide as she first pushed herself onto knobby knees, then unsteady feet.

“Curse her if she thinks she can.” Cruella slurs, although her eyes have gone a bit misty, and her body sways. 

Jafar tugs her arm over his shoulder and starts to walk them towards the door, gesturing furiously at Jay to do the same. 

They lead her out of the house like this, as dirty and starved as she looks. The fur coat that she’s wearing has been worn ragged, and it stings Jay as it chafes against his skin. Her lipstick is smeared down one side of her face, and the previous enthusiasm Jay recalls her flaunting looks to have escaped along with Carlos. 

Speaking of which, Jay wonders if Carlos knows that his mom has been wasting away and winces. Jay knows that it’s wrong to feel any pity towards this horrible woman. She’s useless and disgusting and that’s that. Her apparent madness only proves that Jafar was justified in saying bad things.

Maleficent’s voice is loud when they tote Cruella into the house, and her green eyes lock onto black and white hair with an unreadable expression. 

Jafar releases his side of the burden, and it’s up to Jay to support her full weight. Great.

“So! This is what the incredible Cruella de Vil has been up to, hm? If you wanted to kill yourself, I’m right here.”

Cruella drags her head up from where it hangs. She gives Maleficent the middle finger.

“My puppy,” She croaks after a moment. “He left me like this, he left me to die.”

With a roll of her eyes, Maleficent sends a look towards Mal. 

“If by puppy you mean your intolerable spawn, it would seem that he swam to saltier pastures. Now, if I had a choice I would pitch the both of you into the gutters and wipe my hands of it all. Unfortunately, your boy could be either the asset or the downfall of our little endeavor.”

By the dead look, Cruella is even more lost than before. Maleficent scowls but the Evil Queen steps forwards before she can work herself up to a full on rage. 

“Cruella, darling. A week ago you should have received a note in the post from Auradon. Do you recall that?

Cruella straightens out her spine, tightening her sharp grip on Jay’s shoulder from where he’s still supporting her. With a wince, he tugs himself free.

“Our children have been invited to participate in a rehabilitory program for villains. They’re calling it immersive, which means that our children have been invited to study at Auradon Prep!” The Evil Queen clasps her hands together, and Jay spots Evie off to the side doing the same.

Evie’s eyes are as wide as saucers, and she looks as though she could fly right out of her skin. On the other hand, Mal’s eyes are glowing in the direction of her mother as if she is trying to skin her alive.

“And you didn’t tell us?!” She shouts, and Maleficent waves a dismissive hand.

“I’m telling you now, little dragon.”

It takes a moment to set in for Jay, the realization that their parents aren’t kidding. He inclines his head towards Jafar, who gives him a sneer and a nod in return. Holy shit.

Jay’s hands are vibrating from where he’s shoved them in his pockets as their parents begin walking Mal, Evie, and himself through their current plan. Use this lucky opportunity to steal Fairy Godmother’s weapon and free everyone. He rolls a stolen coin through his fingers. It sounds too good to be true.

“But what about Carlos?” 

Jay releases a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding when Evie asks the question. Right, what about Carlos? They aren’t even on the same side.

“Who?” Cruella murmurs. 

Jay shoots her an angry look without thinking, but Jafar chimes in before he can respond.

“Your puppy, dear. You’ve misplaced him. Either our children convince him to join in on the plan, or else we bury him.”

Why is there a lump stuck in his throat at the thought of Jafar killing Carlos? Jay himself has fought Uma’s crew multiple times with Mal, and Carlos is a traitor. 

Yet despite those facts, his heart begins to beat a little faster. 

“I think we should tell him,” Evie starts, and Mal cuts her off with a stubborn “No.”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” Her eyebrows furrow as she glares at Mal, who crosses her arms tight in front of her chest.

“He’s a dangerous little maniac and we don’t need him interfering with our plans. If we don’t tell him, those ponces from Auradon might just leave him behind. It’s better for all of us.”

Maleficent nods at the logic, and Jay feels torn. Evie ‘s expression remains livid.

“You’re assuming that he doesn’t know already! We have no idea if Carlos has gotten a hold of that letter, heard from his mother, or heard any rumors since. She can’t even remember his name, and you expect her to know whether or not she told him this?”

“Evie!” The Evil Queen admonishes, and Evie wilts like a flower, slinking back to her mother’s side.

Jafar scratches the back of his head, looking bored at the current topic of conversation. Maleficent eyes Evie, before throwing an accusatory stare at Mal. Control your underlings, Jay imagines her saying.

“If that’s everything, I suppose we’re done then. Everyone prepare, you leave in a week’s time.” And with that, Maleficent spins on her heel and strolls right out of the room. 

Jafar is gone before Jay can blink, but he lingers to watch The Evil Queen take Cruella’s hand in her own and guide her back towards the door. She appears to be muttering nonsense. He turns when he hears a sudden thump.

With her hand plastered on one side, Mal is keeping Evie trapped against the wall. It would be amusing with how much taller Evie is if Jay didn’t know just how vicious Mal can be.

“Take a hint,” She hisses in a warning tone, and Jay can spot Evie’s eye twitch. 

“Very well.” Evie responds curtly, then pushes Mal out of her way. 

Although Jay gets the idea that he should stay and talk to Mal, he doesn’t want to get caught up in this nonsense. It’s none of his business whether or not de Vil ends up leaving the Isle, just like how he didn’t care when he left his crazy mother. 

It’s easy to pretend when nobody is talking about de Vil, when Jay is running through the streets and climbing up rusted scaffolding only to find out that the subject in question is already there.

Without much thought, Jay steps closer. He bites into Carlos’s apple and relishes in the look of surprise on his face and the way his freckles stand out against his tanned skin. He didn’t have a tan before, Jay thinks. 

And then the two of them banter until Evie comes along to ruin their conversation and then Jay has to enforce Mal’s orders which leads to a tense fight.

He doesn’t care about de Vil. 

Doesn’t care if de Vil comes to Auradon.

With the plan to destroy the barrier in place, they’ll all be welcome soon enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i'm still here i promise, i've been busy with my classes
> 
> a couple weeks ago i caught the flu and had to be coronavirus tested again so here's a reminder to stay safe and wear your masks (which i'm sure you all already are)
> 
> thank you all so much for your support! i read all of your comments and they make me yell into my pillow because they're so sweet

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> i'm fixating on these movies right now and it's great fun


End file.
